Il Mio Veleno
by fondu au noir
Summary: He was mysterious; he was clever. He was cold and uncaring. He was everything she opposed of and everything her family hated. And he was what she needed.


**IL MIO VELENO**

**Disclaimer:** I don't own Harry Potter. Damn.

**Rating: **T

**Summary: **He was mysterious; he was clever. He was cold and uncaring. He was everything she opposed of and everything her family hated. And he was what she needed.

* * *

"_We make a living by what we get, we make a life by what we give."_

_Sir Winston Churchill_

* * *

PROLOGUE

"_So that's little Scorpius. Make sure you beat him in every test, Rosie. Thank God you inherited your mother's brains." "Ron, for heaven's sake! Don't try to turn them against each other before they've even started school!" "You're right, sorry. Don't get _too_ friendly with him, though, Rosie. Granddad Weasley would never forgive you if you married a pureblood."_

The train continued to rattle on as it passed Scottish fields and mountains. Rose couldn't help but look out the window, a mixture of anticipation and nervousness in her, waiting for the moment she arrived at Hogwarts. In front of her was Al, quietly twiddling his thumbs, and a quiet, dark-skinned girl sitting next to him, reading a book. Her father's words continued to echo through her mind. _Make sure you beat him every test, Rosie. Granddad Weasley would never forgive you if you married a pureblood!_ Make sure I beat him in every test, Rose thought, easy as pie. Rose had always been in the top of her classes by a long shot back in grade school. No one could beat her when it came to academics.

Just then, the door slammed open and in came a shuffle of loud feet and rough hands. By the look of the tall boys, they were Slytherins, around fourteen or fifteen. With them was a small, pale boy with hair nearly like snow and dark gray eyes.

"There y'go, Mal-pal. Just where you belong – with your other midget pals. Glad you found us, eh?" said the tallest one.

The boy didn't say anything, but gave them a deathly glare. The smirks on the older boys' faces dropped to somewhat afraid, but these boys knew better than letting some first year getting to them. "Yeah, and ya better stay that way, Malfoy, or you're gonna get it." And then, another slam.

Before, Rose hadn't caught a good glance at the blond boy her father had been pointing to early, and she hadn't been listening to the conversation that had just happened. She was only stunned by the white hair and pale face. Al, on the other hand, nearly jumped off his seat and turned his attention to the boy. Immediately, he knew who the pale-faced boy was, and his eyes narrowed sufficiently.

"Scorpius Malfoy! What are YOU doing here?"

The boy blinked and glared, and Rose immediately turned her attention to Malfoy and her cousin. "That's none of your business, Potter. Shove off."

Albus, who was not as confident as his older brother, said nothing. Then, silence. Only the rattling of the train could be heard for what seemed to be the longest time.

"Hey, I know you. You're Blaise Zabini's daughter, right?"

Rose and the other girl looked up. The dark-skinned girl only looked up, nodded slightly, and went back to reading.

"Isabella, right?"

Another nod.

"I know your brother, Silvano."

This time, Isabella put her book down and nodded, her attention was now to the three other eleven-year-olds in the compartment. "Yes, that's right. I know you. You're Scorpius Malfoy. Our fathers were friends when they were in school."

Albus scoffed. "Bugger, Zabini! And Malfoy! C'mon, Rosie, let's go find James or Victoire. We don't want to sit next to _purebloods_."

Rose nodded and stood up, carrying her small knapsack with a notebook and a pencil. Scorpius and Isabella both looked up then, and said nothing. Scorpius had an odd look on his face as Rose walked by – anger or intimidation, Rose couldn't tell. But with a swift grab of the arm, Al dragged Rose out of the compartment and closed the door.

"Odd fellows, aren't they? Potter and Weasley."

"My father was right. They're still idiots after all these years."

"Guess things will never change, _il mio amico_."

"Italian? Fancy that."


End file.
